


The Perfect Gift

by pockyandsoda (AceHensworth)



Category: The Muppets (TV 2015), The Muppets - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Background Gonzo/Camilla, Background Kermit the Frog/Fozzie Bear/Miss Piggy, Background Relationships, Background Rizzo the Rat/Pepe the King Prawn, Background Scooter/Walter, Domestic, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Multi, No Smut, Self-Esteem Issues, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 21:42:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29408559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceHensworth/pseuds/pockyandsoda
Summary: Bunsen has realised the true extent of his romantic feelings towards his friend (with benefits) and coworker Beaker. Valentine's Day is coming up and Bunsen wants to finally confess, one small problem; he's terrible at gift giving. He wants to get this right and 'woo' Beaker, so he decides to ask his muppet friends and colleagues for their advice, and they are as helpful as you'd expect.
Relationships: Beaker/Dr. Bunsen Honeydew
Comments: 14
Kudos: 18





	The Perfect Gift

**Author's Note:**

> This is set during the 2015 ABC TV series whilst the characters are still working on Up Late with Miss Piggy. Issues of low self esteem, social anxiety, and relationship anxiety are discussed in this fic, but it is mostly wholesome fluff. I just really wanted to explore Bunsen as a character. Sorry if I've mixed up some British and American spellings in this but I was too lazy to check every time lmao. Also I don't know if every little detail I've included is completely canon compliant and I don't care. Please lemme know what you think! Follow me on tumblr and twitter @/pockyandsoda.

_**Thursday...** _

Doctor Bunsen Honeydew considered himself a very clever man...er, melon thing. He was highly intelligent and creative, and had a proven ability to solve any problem that came his way by any means necessary. And sometimes blowing up a wall or two _was_ necessary. Throughout his whole life science had been the key to discovering answers, and it was always correct. Even if his results weren’t always intended, they were always logical in some way.

But there had been one part of his life that science couldn’t help him with. In fact science seemed to only exasperate this issue. It certainly made the issue sore and unhappy at least. Which was the opposite of what Bunsen wanted really, but some sacrifices must be made for science to progress!

At that moment he was helping the issue in question clean and bandage his minor burns from that day’s experiments gone awry.

“Oh dear, Beakie. Looks like your tie is a little burnt.” He muttered sympathetically, holding the bottom of what was left of the tie up for Beaker to see.

Beaker meeped sadly at the yellow (and now also black) tie.

“I didn’t know it was your favorite, Beaker!” 

Beaker sighed and gave a meep of confirmation before removing the tie from his neck and holding it gently in his hands.

“From now on perhaps it’s best if you don’t wear your ties while we’re doing the experiments.” He responded thoughtfully.

Beaker sent him a displeased look and Bunsen knew better than to push further.

“Or I can look into getting stronger, larger lab coats, I suppose.” He muttered, looking away.

Beaker stood up suddenly as he began meeping hurriedly and loudly. Bunsen understood him perfectly, and he was not happy.

_“If you didn’t keep making me contribute to experiments that you know could be dangerous, it wouldn’t be a problem!”_ Was a close translation.

“Beakie, please don’t go!” Bunsen exclaimed, rushing after him. “We haven’t finished dressing your wounds! Look, I’m sorr-”

Before he could finish Bunsen had already left, slamming the door to their lab behind him without saying goodbye.

Although this was an upsetting end to the day for Bunsen, it wasn’t a very unusual one. There had been a few days over the years that had ended the same way. Usually after a pretty nasty experiment gone wrong, or after Bunsen had said something insensitive.

Both of which he never intended, really he didn’t! He was just so focused on the never ending journey of science that sometimes he lost the ability to think fully about other people. So he’d take dangerous risks or say things without thinking. Beaker understood this and could handle it most of the time, but sometimes it would be too much even for him. And on those days - just like that one - Bunsen would drive home alone to his own apartment and lie awake for hours.

It was a fairly open secret at work and between most of their friends that Bunsen and Beaker didn’t have a typical relationship. They were more than colleagues, they were also friends. They knew each other better than anyone else did and (for the most part) they trusted each other just as much. They spent all of their freetime together watching movies, discussing novels, playing video games, etc. Yes, they were very close. Oh, and sometimes they’d make love. But mostly they were friends.

An element of all that time they spent together, and the intimacy they shared from time to time, was that it had just made sense to share their space too. Beaker had the larger apartment, so that’s where most of Bunsen’s stuff now was. His Nintendo Switch was by Beaker’s TV, his best pyjamas were all in Beaker’s wardrobe, and his teddy bear was on Beaker’s bed.

Which made it all the sadder to unlock the front door to his own, smaller apartment.

He lay awake, as he usually did when in his own bed. There had been a time when his bed had seemed incredibly comfortable, especially on cold work day mornings. But now it paled in comparison to Beaker’s large, soft, warm bed. Beaker must have been using a really nice laundry detergent because the sheets always smelled lightly of lavender. Bunsen’s own sheets smelt of nothing, except maybe musk.

He stared at his ceiling in the dark and had never felt more lonely. He sighed and curled up on his side. He’d been thinking about it for a while already. That day had confirmed it for him. He needed to be better to Beaker, he needed to be better for Beaker. He’d been pushing down his thoughts and feelings long enough, and nothing good had come of it. He just kept letting Beakie down.

He had to tell him that he loved him.

Actually loved him. And not just as a buddy.

It had been a shock to himself when he had first realised. It had never happened before then, Bunsen had almost come to terms with it never happening. And then he had been comforting his new lab assistant as he panicked about going on stage for the first time and just like that the whole world had squeezed and twisted around his heart, and pinpointed on Beaker.

Beaker was everything that was good in the world. 

Outside their family of Muppets, people could be cruel and selfish. Society worked like an old machine, cogs endlessly turning, crushing selflessness out of the best of people. Bunsen’s inventions and experiments had always been attempts to alleviate the monotony of the modern day serfdom placed on people. The Muppets had come into his life and shown him that - if enough people were willing to fight for it - there would always be a creative light inside of everyone. Beaker especially.

Beaker was the most giving soul he’d ever met. Not only was he willing to give up his safety and dignity to the cause of science, but he was always willing to help others and share what he had. Beaker was hardworking, yes, but he knew his limits, and would never work without there being passion behind it. And most of all Beaker had a bright and fascinating glow about him, science wasn’t his whole life like it was for Bunsen, Beaker was a creative soul who knew that logic alone could solve very little. And he had a beautiful way with words, Bunsen loved the sound of his precious Beakie’s meeps.

It was time to move on from the weird place they had found themselves in. Not quite friends with benefits, but not truly lovers. He was tired of holding Beaker at a distance, refusing to give him all of himself. He wanted to be able to always be open and honest with Beaker, at least when they were alone sharing their time and bodies.

With a new resolve he reached for his phone. Confessing through text was no good, he already knew Beaker wouldn’t be impressed with that. He may not have had full insight into Beaker’s mind, but he had seen enough to know Beaker was definitely a romantic at heart. But still he should extend an olive branch and apologise for being insensitive earlier.

_Beaker, I’m sorry for not thinking about your safety more often. I hope your burns are feeling okay. - **Burnin’ Bunsen**_

The three dots kept appearing and disappearing as Bunsen squinted at his screen’s light apprehensively. He knew that Beaker would forgive him, he always did, but he felt a sting of guilt at putting Beaker in this position in the first place.

_I accept your apology. They’re fine. - **Beakie Boy**_

It was a cold response, but that’s what Bunsen had expected. Beaker would usually warm up throughout the next day after one of their little fights.

_I’m sorry, it’s all good. Promise :) - **Beakie Boy**_   
_Did you have anything planned for Sunday? - **Beakie Boy**_

Bunsen had not expected any further responses, let alone two friendly ones so soon. His heart immediately felt lighter.

_Not really. I suppose video games and noodles, like usual? - **Burnin’ Bunsen**_

_Oh. - **Beakie Boy**_   
_Okay. Nevermind. See ya tomorrow. - **Beakie Boy**_

Bunsen stared at his phone in confusion. What just happened? Where did all the warmth go again? What had he done wrong this time?

Bunsen quickly exited his messaging app and opened his phone’s calendar. _Sunday? Was it a birthday?_

His heart stopped as he realised his mistake. Sunday was the 14th of February. _Valentine’s Day!_

But they’d never done anything for Valentine’s Day before? Even since they began being more intimate they still hadn’t done anything particularly special for it. So why was Beaker so upset about it this year? 

He considered the problem for a while but the best he could come up with was that maybe Beaker had intended to ask him out but had changed his mind? How very odd!

He realised he could kill two birds with one stone. It seemed Beaker wanted to do something for Valentine’s Day, and Bunsen wanted to confess his love. These two events could happen at once! 

He’d need to make it special, that’s what Beaker would want. He needed to plan something, maybe a meal, or he could sing a song? No, that was a bad idea. Either way he’d definitely need a gift. 

That was an area of life that Bunsen struggled with greatly. Every birthday and Christmas he would try with a genuine heart, and every year everyone would smile politely and proceed to never make use of their gifts from him. He was a terrible gift giver. It seemed people just assumed that his preoccupation with science meant he didn’t focus much on other people’s likes and interests, explaining his lack of ability in giving gifts. He actually did try hard most of the time, but it was easier to pretend he didn’t and go along with others preconceived notions of him than to admit that.

Not this time, he wanted Beaker to legitimately like his gift. And he wanted Beaker to know he had tried hard and put thought into it.

There was nothing to be done, Bunsen would need to ask other people for help this time. But who to ask?

_**Friday…** _

After thinking it through for an hour or so the answer was obvious. Not only was Kermit an excellent planner and ideas frog, but he had also been able to keep someone as high maintenance as Miss Piggy relatively happy for the many years they’d been together. He did feel some concern for the possible awkwardness of discussing his love life with his boss, but he trusted Kermit to be both open minded and discreet.

“Mr the Frog, sir?” Bunsen asked rather tentatively as he knocked on the door of Kermit’s office.

There didn’t seem to be an answer so Bunsen placed an ear against the door. He suddenly heard Kermit’s patented stressful ‘good grief’s’ in between indistinct yelling of some kind. Normally Bunsen would choose to leave Kermit to his own business, but he was determined.

When he opened the door prepared to repeat his initial greeting he was instead cut off by Kermit shouting something down one of the three phones he was struggling to communicate into at once.

“Ah, no. No, it has to be the one cut like a heart! No, wait. Hold on!” Bunsen stared in discomfort as Kermit hurriedly switched phones. “Yes? Yes, 20 of those, and 20 of the red roses. Red!”

Bunsen coughed in an attempt to get Kermit’s attention and immediately regretted it when he was shot the familiar face scrunch.

“Hold on one second, Bunsen.” Kermit finally said in acknowledgement, clearly trying to hide his annoyance, before continuing with his phones. “Yes, I know it’s a slightly weird request, but can you do the personalised whoopie cushions or not?”

Bunsen continued to awkwardly wait in confusion as Kermit struggled through whatever arrangements he was making. Eventually Kermit hung up each phone one by one with a heavy sigh. He took a few moments to compose himself before turning to Bunsen as if nothing had happened.

“How can I help you, Bunsen?”

“Are you okay, Mr Kermit?” It would have been easy to get straight to the point, but Kermit was clearly too stressed to be helpful.

He watched Kermit deflate and look thoughtful for a moment.

“I’m fine, sorry you had to see that. Valentine’s Day, y’know?”

“Oh, yes, actually that’s why-”

“I mean it was bad enough with just Miss Piggy. I would usually get her at least 30 separate gifts, otherwise I’d be in the frog-house! And now I’m shopping for two people! Although it does help to have someone to share the Piggy-gift load with-”

“Two people?” That was new!

“Oh, um.” Kermit’s cheeks turned a darker shade of green as he began to look sheepish. “Listen, don’t tell the others yet. It’s still new and a little uncertain. But, um yeah! Miss Piggy and Fozzie and I are...trying something new, I suppose.”

Bunsen was surprised, but he saw Kermit’s small smile as he spoke about his partners even through his nervousness, and felt a warmth inside for the frog. He gave him a big smile and a gentle pat on the back.

“I’m happy for you, Kermit. I won’t tell a soul, promise.” Bunsen assured him.

“Thanks, Bunsen.” Kermit seemed to grow in confidence. “What was it you wanted to talk about anyway?”

“Oh, it was nothing. You should focus on your own thing for now.”

Kermit looked skeptical for a moment, but quickly gave up as one of the phone’s began ringing loudly beside him.

“Well, okay. Just lemme know if you need me!” Kermit said in a rush, just before he answered the phone and returned to his previous chaos.

Bunsen gave a small wave as he left the room. It would be far too rude to ask for Kermit’s help. It seemed he should be helping Kermit instead even. No, he would have to ask for someone else’s advice for now.

He ended up wandering around the main staff area aimlessly, mentally weighing out various co-workers’ pros and cons. He had to consider how romantically successful everyone was, but also how well they knew Beaker, not to mention how strategically minded they were.

“Oi, Professor Melon Head! Do you mind?” A voice squeaked at him from behind.

He turned around and saw Rizzo staring up at him impatiently. He realised he was currently blocking Rizzo’s way and apologised profusely.

“What’s your problem anyhow? You’re looking pretty blue for a green guy!”

“I’ve always thought of myself as fairly yellow actually.” He attempted to explain.

“You’re wrong, but whatever. What are you moping around here for?”

Bunsen considered Rizzo for a moment. True, Rizzo wasn’t a very subtle or tactful individual, but he did have more common sense than Bunsen. He also claimed to be fairly good with the ladies, so perhaps he knew a decent amount about Valentine’s gifts. However, the thought of opening up to Rizzo about his and Beakie’s relationship made him highly uncomfortable. He would need to make it a vague question.

“Oh, um, nothing. Say, do you know much about gift giving?” 

He could tell his attempts to ‘play it cool’ had failed when he saw Rizzo give him an unconvinced expression.

“Why? Is it your lab _partner's_ birthday?” Rizzo mocked. “Just get him another microscope or something.”

“I was actually thinking of a Valentine’s gift for someone.” Grumbled Bunsen, unimpressed.

“Oh, you got a girl, smarty pants?” He asked mischievously.

Bunsen was beginning to find this tedious. And just as Rizzo looked as if he was about to say something else he stopped dead still. Bunsen could almost see the buffering symbol circling over Rizzo’s head as he remained that way for a few moments too long to not cause alarm.

“Wait, it’s Valentine’s Day soon?” Rizzo sounded as though he had just been told that Bunsen had murdered his entire family.

“Well, yes.” Bunsen answered, waving a hand in front of the rat’s stuck face. “You _do_ know what month it is, right?”

Just as quickly as he had frozen, Rizzo burst back to life with a jump, making Bunsen yelp pathetically.

“Oh no, no, no. I forgot to get him a gift!” Rizzo began quickly pacing dramatically. “Honeydew, quick, do you know anything about shopping for shellfish?”

“Well-” Bunsen had thought he was the one asking for help.

“Nevermind, you’re useless. I’ll sort it out myself.”

And like a shot the rat disappeared, rushing off to the mall, Bunsen supposed.

“Gee, thanks.” Bunsen muttered to himself.

It was already lunch time and he’d still had no luck in his quest. He was beginning to feel quite depressed. He wanted to do this right, surely someone could help make Beaker happy. He just wanted to see Beaker smile when he opened his gift, and know that Bunsen loved him truly.

With a slight trudge to his steps Bunsen headed over to the food table to grab a small lunch before continuing. He was musing between a ham and cheese sandwich or a chicken wrap, when he noticed something shiny in his peripheral vision. He looked up and noticed the light was bouncing off of the ring around the Swedish Chef’s finger. His wedding ring!

“Say, Chef. You’re married, right?” He asked excitedly. The Chef nodded in confirmation. “What do you get your wife on special occasions? How do you keep her happy? I’m having some struggles, you see!”

It took all of five seconds for Bunsen to realise he had made a mistake as the Swedish Chef began explaining in ‘Swedish’, a dialect Bunsen did not speak. It certainly seemed the Chef was attempting to give him legitimate advice, and Bunsen was intrigued by all of his wild gestures.

“Oh, yes?” He responded at an appropriate pause.

Bunsen felt too awkward to walk away at this point and so he kept listening to the Chef’s nonsense politely, lamenting their inability to understand each other. The problem with this was that the Chef did not stop talking for over half an hour. He finished dramatically whilst wiping tears from his eyes. Bunsen didn’t have it in him to be annoyed, if anything he was touched by the love the Chef felt for his wife and how much he had tried to help Bunsen.

“Oh, wow. Thank you so much, Chef!”

“Nø pröblåmø!” Chef responded, giving him an ‘O-K’ sign.

Bunsen couldn’t help the trudge that returned to his step as his face fell when walking away. He’d ended up eating his whole sandwich whilst listening to the Chef’s impassioned monologue, and now he found himself wandering around again.

“Hey, wait up!” 

Before he had time to turn around and greet Gonzo, he had already been tackled to the ground. Flustered, Bunsen gently shooed Gonzio off of him as they both stood up brushing themselves off.

“Wow, that was fun!” Gonzo remarked. “Listen, I heard what you and the chef were talking about.”

“Did - did you understand him?” Bunsen asked in disbelief.

“Not really.” Gonzo admitted sadly. “But I heard you asking about gifts, and I think I can help you.”

“Did you really stand there and listen to the whole of Chef’s speech before saying anything?”

Gonzo had always striked Bunsen as possibly the oddest Muppet. At first he had thought he actually related to him very well, living for the thrill of taking risks and trying new things regardless of the cost. But Gonzo did things for enjoyment and nothing more, whereas Bunsen was trying to discover new things and improve the world. He sometimes struggled to understand Gonzo’s actions - the pure adrenaline chasing he understood - but Gonzo was a lot more than that. This was one of those times, it seemed Gonzo often showed glimpses of great patience and courtesy to others. 

“Of course I did!” Gonzo responded nonchalantly. “But listen, I’m great with romantic gifts! Camilla always says so!”

Bunsen wasn’t sure that a chicken was the best frame of reference for romantic gestures, let alone ones that would also resonate with Beaker, but he was feeling fairly tired and becoming desperate. He gestured for Gonzo to continue.

“For her birthday last year I made a giant heart shaped hydrogen balloon!”

“Oh, well, that does sound nice.”

“Yeah it was about 50 feet tall!”

“Oh?” _That was very big!_

“Then I let it float into the sky and I blew it up and there was a massive explosion shaped like a heart! I even added pink food dye so it would be a pink explosion.”

Bunsen stared at Gonzo in disbelief and awe. It was certainly romantic, but he couldn’t help but wonder how much property damage Gonzo may have caused. He tried to imagine himself causing an explosion on purpose for Beaker, knowing his luck he’d just set Beaker on fire again.

“I’m planning something a little smaller for Valentine’s Day though.”

“Oh, good.”

“Yeah, I’m just gonna tie myself to a giant cupid’s arrow and shoot myself into the clouds to manually shape them to spell out “I love you, Camilla!” and then I’ll parachute down to the restaurant where we’re eating and pull out a bouquet of roses. It’s the little things, y’know?”

If Bunsen had fully formed eyelids he would surely blink dumbly in disbelief. The thought of being shot into the sky was honestly quite terrifying to him, that stuff was usually left to Beaker. Bunsen again had a realisation that he should empathise more with the scary and dangerous positions he puts Beaker in. He took in the overly enthusiastic muppet looking at him expectantly, and gulped nervously.

“Well, it definitely sounds...romantic.” He responded encouragingly.

“I know! So, what do you think? Could you do something like that?”

“Oh, I - um, I wouldn’t want to steal your idea!”

“That’s okay! I have plenty! I was also thinking of doing an underwater motorcycle routine in shark infested water!”

“For Valentine’s Day?!”

“I was gonna dress the sharks up as cupids!”

“Yes, I’m sure that would help.” Bunsen muttered to himself. He doubted the sharks would very much appreciate that.

“I can help you set up anything you want!” Gonzo said excitedly.

“Oh, Gonzo. Thank you, but I don’t think my Valentine would like that-”

“But Beaker’s always doing super cool stunts with you!” He interjected.

Bunsen stared at Gonzo for a moment.

“How did you know it was Beaker?”

“You two are in love.” 

It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. And Gonzo had said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, as simple as telling Bunsen the sky was blue. Gonzo continued to look back at him silently. For Gonzo it wasn’t some big epiphany or scandalous secret, and it wasn’t something either of them should be shying away from. It was as if he truly didn’t realise this was something not commonly acknowledged. It filled Bunsen with a comfort and determination like he’d never known. Gonzo was right, it didn’t need to be a secret, it didn’t need to be something he was unsure about. It could simply be. 

Bunsen cleared his throat.

“Well, I’m not sure Beaker thinks of those ‘stunts’ as cool.” Bunsen explained shyly. Gonzo just gave him a confused look in response. “Either way, I don’t think that’s what he’d want for Valentine’s Day. But thank you, Gonzo!”

“Sure thing! Can I help at all?”

“Do you know anything about buying normal gifts?”

“Oh, not really.” He hesitated. “Hey, you should ask Kermit!”

“That’s a great idea, Gonzo. Thanks!”

“You’re welcome! See ya!” 

Bunsen decided it would be best to leave Gonzo thinking he had helped, since he was so unapologetically enthusiastic about it. He felt a stronger kinship to Gonzo as he watched him hurry away happily. 

Bunsen headed to the lab for a few hours, not really doing much of anything. His mind kept wandering back to his surprisingly absent lab partner, in fact by the time he decided to leave in defeat all he had to show for his time was a notepad full of doodles. He surprised himself with the realisation he had spent a considerable amount of said time stroking the cheeks of his Beaker sketches, and fondly remembering all of the times he had done so in real life. 

He was making his way back from a quick trip to the bathroom when he spotted the bright orange fluff of the real Beaker. Feeling suddenly embarrassed, he sharply dipped below the nearest desk to hide. He chided himself for being so immature as he came out of hiding moments later and jumped when he came face to face with a fellow bespectacled colleague.

“Oh! Hello, Scooter.”

“What’d you do that for?” The orange Muppet asked.

“Do what?” He aimed for nonchalance.

Scooter gave him a similar unconvinced look to the one Rizzo had made earlier. However, he quickly deflated with a muttered ‘whatever’, and slumped into his desk chair with a sigh.

“Oh dear. What’s gone wrong now?”

“Oh, just everything.” Scooter responded miserably.

“I thought we were finally improving the show.” Lamented Bunsen sadly.

“Oh, the show’s fine!” Scooter assured him. “It’s not the show, it’s just my life.”

With that Scooter folded his arms on the desk in front of him and unceremoniously flopped his head upon them. Bunsen didn’t think he’d ever seen the younger muppet so defeated. Scooter’s decision to bury his head in the proverbial sand would have been an ample opportunity for Bunsen to escape the interaction. However, Bunsen felt a shadow of the same feelings he’d had earlier in Kermit’s office, he didn’t want his friends to be sad or stressed either.

“What’s wrong?” He asked genuinely.

He heard a deep sigh from within the arm-cave which Scooter’s face now called home.

“It’s nothing.” He sounded exhausted. “It’s silly.” He quickly corrected. 

“Tell me anyway.” Bunsen decided as he dragged over another chair and sat opposite Scooter.

Scooter took a peak out of the top of his arms at Bunsen uncertainly.

“How do you tell if someone likes you?” He asked quietly.

“Well, do they enjoy hanging out with you? I have often heard that making friends is hard nowadays.” Bunsen mused, he hadn’t known Scooter had been feeling lonely.

“No, I mean...how do you know if someone wants to go out with you?”

“Oh.” He’d been asking people similar questions all day, but found he still didn’t have an answer. “It’s complicated, I suppose.”

Scooter retreated fully into his arms and groaned loudly. Bunsen once again felt frustration at his inability to help others efficiently. There were a few moments of silence before Scooter seemed to relent and sat up again.

“There’s somebody I want to ask out for Valentine’s Day but I really don’t know how they feel and I don’t wanna ruin our friendship, and where would I even take them for a date? I don’t have a lot of money and I can’t have them over mine because my mom’s already bagsied the living room for Valentine’s Day with her boyfriend Ken, who told me not to leave my room that day cause he’s planning on “fully woo-ing” my mom, what does that even mean?! Not everyone talks like a Sim, Ken!”

Scooter took several intense breaths after his outburst and Bunsen was left confused about this Ken person and why he was “woo-ing” people. He decided that piece of information could be stored for later and focused on the first part Scooter had said.

“I don’t see why they wouldn’t agree to a date. You’re a very likable person, Scooter.” He reassured him.

“Please, I know I’m a dweeb really. You don’t need to lie.”

“I’m not lying.” Bunsen said firmly. “A lot of people find that charming.”

“I’m just so nervous.” 

“I think that’s normal. It’s definitely worth a try, if you ask me.”

“Yeah, well.” Scooter seemed unconvinced as he checked the time. “I gotta go, thanks for trying.” He grabbed his clipboard and headset.

“It’s not Chelsea Handler this time, is it?” Bunsen asked quickly.

“No, not this time.” Scooter confirmed before leaving.

Not really knowing what else to do, Bunsen remained seated at Scooter's cubicle desk. He found himself feeling grateful that he needn’t worry about whether his crush found him attractive, he was self-assured that Beaker enjoyed spending time with him greatly. Instead his concern surrounded the issues of commitment and reliability, he could be fully committed to Beaker and Beaker was reliable, but could the same be said vice versa? Would Beaker want to be committed to him? Did Beaker think Bunsen could be a reliable partner?

Bunsen was aware enough to know that he could be self absorbed and apathetic to others. He was also aware that some people found this to be an incredibly negative trait. Did Beaker? He assumed not, because Beaker chose to spend so much time with him anyway. However, being friends (even friends with benefits) with someone is very different to being in a serious romantic relationship with them. Was he responsible and reliable enough for Beaker? He couldn’t help but have doubts, maybe Beaker knew he could do better than Bunsen.

“Oh hey, Dr Honeydew!” Bunsen started a little at Walter’s sudden appearance. “Sorry to interrupt your inner monologue, but have you seen Scooter?”

“Sorry, my boy.” Bunsen stretched as he stood out of the chair. “You’ve just missed him.”

“Oh.” Walter seemed disappointed. “Well, thanks anyway!”

Walter began to walk away, but turned back around after a few steps.

“Hey, you’re really smart, aren’t you, Dr Honeydew?”

“I feel confident answering that in the affirmative, yes.” He answered, bemused.

“Can you give me some advice?” Walter asked eagerly, walking back over.

Bunsen chuckled softly to himself. He woke up this morning determined to obtain advice and help, but it seemed he was the one being of more use to others for once.

“Of course, ask away.” He responded tiredly, but also good naturedly.

“What’s the best way to ask someone on a date?” He asked in a hushed voice, “I already know what I want to do for it, but I’ve never done it before so I don’t really know how.”

“Well I-” He found himself amused once more at the irony of the situation. “I would think the best way is to just come out and say it.”

“I was afraid you’d say that.” Walter lamented nervously. “I wouldn’t be so worried if I had actually been there before.”

“Been where?”

“Oh, well, my idea for the date was to go to Color Me Mine!”

_Oh._ A quick mosaic of memories flashed before Bunsen’s eyes. There had been many times over the years when Scooter had tried to convince various muppets to join him (and sometimes his wonderful mother) to Color Me Mine. As Bunsen glanced at the desk in front of him, he suddenly knew who was causing Scooter so much pining.

“It’s not overly complicated, y’know?” Bunsen said encouragingly.

“I don’t wanna embarrass myself.” Walter admitted timidly.

“I don’t think you need to worry about that.”

“I asked Gary if he could come with me once so I can get used to it and know what to do, but he pointed out that it was a bit far to travel from Smalltown.” Walter was staring at him as if waiting for something.

“Ah. That’s a shame.” He responded, beginning to feel a little uncomfortable.

And just as he saw Walter wind himself up to say something, time seemed to stall into slow motion as Bunsen already knew what he was about to say.

“Is there any chance you’d come with me?”

Bunsen had no interest in painting pottery, let alone with someone he only kinda knew. But Bunsen also hated rejecting people, especially nice or earnest people.

“Um, well…” He watched Walter’s face begin to fall and decided he couldn’t do it. “Sure, I can come.”

Walter’s face was brighter than Miss Piggy’s bleached hair as he thanked Bunsen profusely. It almost made up for the underlying dread and discomfort Bunsen was anticipating from this particular long form social interaction.

“Work’s nearly over for the day, so we can head over there soon! Can you drive?” Walter was nearly bouncing with excitement.

“Tonight?”

“Sure, why not?” 

Bunsen considered that for a moment. Admittedly he hadn’t expected it to be so soon, and usually he’d want time to mentally prepare for a social gathering. But he hadn’t been able to actually make up with Beaker today, so it was either Color Me Mine or another evening alone. He felt his heart sink at the realisation that Beaker had probably been avoiding him all day.

“Yeah, why not?” Bunsen muttered in agreement.

_**Later, at Color Me Mine…** _

Unsurprisingly, the drive from work to the mall had been fairly awkward, with only spatterings of stunted small talk between them. Bunsen had never actually been to a Color Me Mine either, but he felt it wasn’t exactly necessary to have been before. He couldn’t imagine it being a particularly complicated or difficult affair, so he hadn’t mentioned it to Walter. 

He was happily proven correct when there were no hiccups in talking to the attendant and getting sorted out. He hoped Walter was paying attention so he’d feel more comfortable with this interaction when he took Scooter here. He was even more certain that Walter could have easily done it without their little practise round.

Bunsen wasn’t a very creative muppet, he had only ever painted a few times in his life, and most of those were under supervision as a child. So he found himself embarrassingly overwhelmed with all the color choices. When it came to imagination and design Bunsen knew he struggled more than most, he assumed he was just far too analytical to be an artist. It was one of the things he appreciated so much about Beaker, who was equal parts logical and creative without even trying. Bunsen apprehensively chose a large plate to paint, while Walter chose a mug.

“So, do you paint often, Walter?” Bunsen asked absentmindedly, as he began painting with a light purple one stroke at a time.

“Not really, but I do think it’s fun!” Walter was not taking as much time as Bunsen. “But I’m probably not the best.”

“Yours will be better than mine, I assure you.” 

He wished he had a microscope, the brushes were far too big for accurate details. 

He couldn’t help but notice the bright orange shade - that matched suspiciously well to a certain co-worker’s fuzz - that Walter was using.

“Why Color Me Mine then?” Bunsen asked innocently. “If you don’t paint often.”

“Oh. Well...” Walter tried to find the words. “I thought they’d enjoy it. Besides, this way I get to make them a gift at the same time.”

“A gift?” Bunsen looked curiously at the mess of color on his plate and considered this. Unfortunately he wasn’t sure if this type of gift would be ideal for Beaker, especially when painted specifically by Bunsen’s unskilled hands.

“Do you have anyone for Valentine's Day?”

“I’m hoping so.” Bunsen admitted.

“Really? That’s great, Dr Honeydew!” Walter seemed far too invested in this. “What are they like?”

Bunsen hesitated. He wasn’t concerned about Walter knowing about his feelings, or even judging them, but he had started to worry about the amount of people who may know before Beaker himself did. He had always thought that Walter seemed fairly observant, so he would have expected Walter to be the muppet to figure it out, as opposed to Gonzo. He didn’t see the harm in letting himself vent a little.

“Well, they’re very sweet.” He began timidly, Walter looked at him encouragingly to continue. “And incredibly intelligent. People think they don’t have a lot to say, but that’s not true, others just don’t listen to them properly. They’re actually very outspoken, they have lots of strong and fascinating opinions about life and art and science, and talking with them is never dull. In fact, I find it very comforting.”

He reflected on the decades he had spent at Beaker’s side. On all of the warm smiles saved only for him. On the many meals shared in a kitchen or in the labs. On muffled giggles and being silly on The Muppet Show set or at home. On the rush of discovering new breakthroughs in science together, knowing that joy was shared with another. On the late nights spent perfecting inventions while high on caffeine. On the soft, melodious meeps that would fill the room when he struggled to sleep. On the cup of coffee that would wait on his desk or on the bedside table every morning, just for him.

And he reflected on other things too. On frustrated looks shot at him across a lab. On howled meeps of pain and surprise when his inventions failed over and over again. On deep sighs of regret and annoyance. On dirty dishes left in the sink to ‘soak’. On loud shouting in the middle of work. On fights and arguments. On the hurt and betrayal and mistrust Beaker must surely feel sometimes.

_How would he ever be good enough?_

Nothing he did worked. Not in science, and not in love. But he had to try. He always had to try. Giving up would achieve nothing, it would change nothing. In science you try again, and you check every result. He would keep trying again and again until he was enough. Until he was better.

And finally he reflected on support. On the sympathetic hands on his shoulder. On encouraging meeps in a lab at 2am. On the resolute work ethic no matter the struggle. On cookies baked in an attempt to lift spirits. On hands lifting him out of bed on his bad days. On a steadfast voice telling him to never give up, that they’ll figure it out. On years and decades spent maturing and growing old, watching the world change and shift, knowing you’ll never be those spry young adults ever again, but that you’ll always have each other.

“And they’re adorable. And wonderful. And everything I was told a prince would be when I was a child.” He continued, sniffling through misty eyes. “But really all that matters is that they’re there, and that they care. And he does. I surely do love him. Yes, I love him.”

Bunsen focused back to reality upon hearing a loud sniffle that was not his own, to his shock he saw small Walter crying.

“That’s so beautiful, Dr Honeydew!” He exclaimed between sniffs.

For a moment Bunsen panicked thinking perhaps he had said some of his thoughts out loud, but he decided he wouldn’t really mind if he had. He glanced back down at his plate, it seemed he had continued painting while lost in thought. The most positive word he could think to describe his design was ‘interesting’, certainly not gift worthy.

“Yes, well. Thank you, Walter.” He responded, feeling awkward.

“They’re really lucky to have someone who loves them as much you do!” Walter carried on, clearly not picking up on Bunsen’s discomfort. “I wish I had someone like that. Y’know telling someone how you truly feel really is the best gift!”

The thought of verbalising his entire mental journey moments ago to Beaker himself seemed incredibly daunting, though he knew logically that Walter was correct. Beautiful words of love have historically been proven a successful method of “woo-ing” someone, as Ken would put it. He hoped that over time he would be able to be vulnerable and open about the depth of his love for Beaker, but he had doubts that could happen as soon as Valentine’s Day. No he’d at least need a physical gift to support any words he may or may not manage to share.

Once Walter had finished his masterpiece Bunsen assisted him in putting things away ready to leave. Before the attendant could take away their pottery pieces to fire in the kiln Walter took a photo of his on his phone, encouraging Bunsen to do the same as they would have to wait a week to collect the finished versions.

“In case you want to show your Valentine!” He’d explained

Bunsen had then driven Walter home, who thanked him the entire way, and assured him he was now ready to ask out his crush the next day. Afterwards Bunsen drove back to his own apartment, once more filled with a crushing loneliness.

Just as he had the previous night, he lay in bed restlessly. His head kept replaying the events of the day, and he felt a growing panic over still not having a gift or plan for his Beaker confession. He had also begun feeling uneasy about the lack of Beaker’s presence during the day. Despite his better judgement he reached for his phone.

_Everything okay? - **Burnin’ Bunsen**_

_Yes. - **Beakie Boy**_   
_Everything’s fine. - **Beakie Boy**_   
_Why wouldn’t it be? - **Beakie Boy**_   
_Where were you today anyway? - **Beakie Boy**_

It was clear from the tone of the messages that Beaker was still unhappy with him. Normally Beaker would use many emojis and prefer to send one larger message than multiple smaller ones. Bunsen decided to end the conversation there instead of trying to explain everything via text at 1am.

_Oh, I was just busy. - **Burnin’ Bunsen**_

_Okay then. - **Beakie Boy**_

It really did break Bunsen’s heart to know that Beaker was still so disappointed in him, what hurt even more was the possibility that Beaker didn’t realise how much Bunsen cared. But he didn’t feel prepared enough to face Beaker until he had a plan in place. He was worried that without one he would only make things between them worse, as he was known to do.

So instead of apologising, or trying to make Beaker laugh, or telling Beaker he was loved, Bunsen rolled over and tried to sleep through the small tears he began to shed.

_**Saturday...** _

Compared to the previous morning, Bunsen was in a far less determined state of mind. Instead he felt anxious, aware that he was running out of time to get this right. He was also aware that he wouldn’t be able to avoid Beaker for a second day in a row when their entire job was working together.

He found himself heading into work early, his plan was to spend an extra hour or two in the lab brainstorming different Valentine’s Day ideas. He had expected the studio to be pretty dead at 7am, but he was surprised to hear incredibly loud and jovial music coming from the sound set. Immediately curious he abandoned his route to the lab and headed toward the noise.

He wasn’t particularly surprised to find Electric Mayhem as the source of the upbeat tune, he was more surprised at their alertness at that time of day. He took some time to watch and listen to the group jam happily together. The passion they shared for the music and each other was clear, they weren’t overthinking things or doing stuff because they had to, they were just having fun together. Not for the first time in his life he found himself wishing he could be more like that, but he had troubles with letting loose and what not.

“Hey science man, what’re you doing still bumping to grooves this late in the twilight?” Dr Teeth asked airily, as he noticed Bunsen at last.

“It’s actually the morning now.” Bunsen informed them.

“Pshhh time’s an illusion, man. It’s just to keep us all under control, so they know what we’re doing all day.” Floydd supplied unhelpfully.

“For sure.” Janice agreed. “Woah. Honeydew, your vibes are all over the place.”

“Are they really?” Bunsen asked sarcastically.

“Absolutely. Your romance problems are messing up your whole alignment.” She informed him cheerfully.

“Well, I’m sure you have a crystal for that.” 

“No need to be defensive, brother.” Dr Teeth chimed in. “I know it’s tough to fully comprehendify the ways of love for another homosapien.”

“It’s true. Even after all these years we still have troubles from time to time,” Floydd added.

Bunsen watched them curiously. He had to admit he didn’t know much about the band members outside of their musical abilities. Perhaps they were much deeper minded than he had first anticipated. He began to feel even more weary and let out a big sigh.

“What would you suggest then?” He asked.

“Love works best when you’re honest.” Zoot mumbled.

“Yes, I know. I should tell him how I feel.” He snapped, frustrated.

“Not just love. You need to be honest about the bad stuff too.” Floydd explained.

“It’s no good to just say how much you love someone over and over. You gotta let em know when you’re upset or you’re worried. If you feel insecure, like ya gotta share it out and let it go.” Janice expanded.

Bunsen realised that he probably could share more of his struggles with Beaker. There were times when Bunsen would be too low to keep his guard up anymore, but they weren’t often, and those times only became so bad in the first place because he would normally bottle up all those thoughts. Usually when another experiment or invention went horribly wrong he would try his best to just shrug it off and go back to the drawing board. If he let it show for even a second that he knew he’d messed up then people may realise how bad a scientist he actually was. 

“Isn’t it unfair to unload negativity onto someone else like that?”

“Only if you do it all the time.” Dr Teeth replied. “The most importantest part is that you listen too. And they feel comfortable to be as honest with you as you are with them.”

“Totally. Otherwise it’s just venting. There needs to be listening and comforting too.” Janice said.

How comfortable did Beaker feel being open with him? He certainly felt comfortable enough to talk about his interests and mess around, and to make minor complaints about work every now and again. But did Bunsen really know how Beaker felt? Did he know about Beaker’s insecurities? Perhaps they could both learn to let each other in more.

“What do you all do for Valentine’s Day?” Since the rest of their advice had been interesting he thought they may have some good ideas for him.

“Hmm. Well, on the Day of Valen we usually just chill out in the van with some smoke, snacks and tunes, brother!” Dr Teeth shared happily.

“Yeah, it’s like super fun!” Janice added.

“Very romantic!” Floydd assured.

“But...isn’t that what you guys do everyday?” Bunsen asked in disbelief.

“It sure is!” Janice answered.

“You should do you and your partners’ favorite activities, my guy.” Floydd said.

“And we happen to do ours most days!” Dr Teeth laughed. “Because it’s having each other that makes those activities our favorites. Besides when you’re with the people you love, everyday is Valentine’s Day!”

That hadn’t fully occurred to Bunsen before. His whole life other people had told him that Valentine’s Day had to be this big, special day full of fancy gifts and dinners and over the top romance. That’s what he’d always been told people want when they think of love. But he realised he himself had never wanted any of that from somebody else. So maybe that wasn’t what everyone actually wants or needs.

What would Bunsen want as an act of love from Beaker? He certainly wouldn’t need expensive gifts or a dinner at a restaurant. In fact he was always most happy just spending time with Beaker. Especially when they would play video games or go to karaoke with their friends. And who needs a $100+ meal when buttered noodles taste fine?

He was still sure that Beaker would want romance, but he now knew that romance didn’t mean the same thing to every person. He still didn’t know what Beaker specifically would want, but he knew he may be close to an epiphany. He needed as much time as possible to sort through his thoughts and ideas.

Before he could talk himself out of it he turned away from the Electric Mayhem and began to run, intent on heading back to his car. As he ran away he nearly knocked over Kermit, who had just arrived for work.

“Bunsen?! Where are you going?” Kermit called after him.

“I need the day off, Mr Kermit. No time to explain!” He called behind him.

He didn’t hang around long enough to hear Kermit’s response, instead he decided he would simply face whatever repercussions would be awaiting him Monday morning.

_**Sunday evening, Valentine’s Day…** _

Bunsen had spent the entirety of Saturday and most of Sunday sifting through his incredibly complicated thoughts in search of solid ideas. In the end he had decided that since he didn’t know yet what romance meant for Beaker, that he was just going to try everything and hope that one would land well enough.

He had remembered Kermit arranging some flowers for Miss Piggy and Fozzie, and so he went and bought some tulips he thought Beaker might like. 

Neither Rizzo or the Swedish Chef had been particularly helpful, but he assumed the Chef was trying to tell him that he would cook for his wife, and so he had bought some ingredients to make spaghetti carbonara with, which he believed to be similar enough to buttered noodles. 

He remembered Gonzo’s tales of incredible stunts and gestures of love for his chicken wife, there was no way that Bunsen would be able to arrange to be shot out of a cannon or whatever, especially at short notice. But he recalled Gonzo saying something about a balloon, and so he had bought a large heart shaped balloon about the size of a small child.

He thought about what Walter had said also. Not about the pottery, that was a definite no, but about how words of love can be the best gift. So he spent a few hours writing out what he wanted to say to Beaker. Most of the drafts had ended up in the trash, but he believed he now had a rough idea. He just hoped he’d be able to get through it all.

But mostly he had remembered what the Electric Mayhem had said about activities and open communication. So he had made sure the game system was set up with their favorite game ready to play and that their favorite music was playing and he bought their favorite snacks too. And - most importantly - he was ready to make sure Beaker knew that he could rely on Bunsen and be open with him whenever.

He used his spare key to Beaker’s apartment to sneak in and set up his surprise.

He was in the kitchen trying to save the pasta sauce he was currently burning when Beaker walked through his front door.

“What the _hell_ is going on?” He meeped loudly as he walked through to the kitchen to confront Bunsen.

“Oh hello, Beakie! There you are!” Bunsen answered cheerfully.

He immediately felt equal parts nervous and guilty, Beaker didn’t look at all happy to see him.

“Well, it is my apartment after all. What are you doing here?”

“Well I, er, I thought maybe…” He cleared his throat. “It’s Valentine’s Day!” He tried weakly.

“It sure is.” Beaker responded coldly.

“Did you see everything in the living room?” He tried to switch gears.

Beaker looked confused for a moment before walking back into the living room to inspect things. Bunsen was beginning to worry he had made a mistake and completely misunderstood Beaker’s feelings as he followed Beaker into the living area.

“What is this?” Beaker suddenly asked, seeming legitimately surprised as he gestured to the balloon.

“It’s a heart.” Bunsen answered awkwardly.

“I can see that but why…?” Beaker trailed off and looked extremely puzzled for a moment. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“Yes, I’m sorry, I-”

“You haven’t spoken to me for two days!” Beaker exploded. “I was expecting you to try and make things up to me, but instead you disappeared and left me to do all of our work!” Bunsen had tried to interject that Beaker had also been avoiding him, but Beaker cut him off. “And then I had people telling me they saw you on a date with Walter!”

“What?!” Bunsen asked incredulously. _How on Earth could anyone think that?_

“He’s a bit young for you, Dr Honeydew.” Beaker responded bitterly.

“Hold on a second. Walter and I were not on a date!”

“I know that! But why were you ignoring me?” Beaker suddenly deflated and just looked sad. “You’ve never done that before.”

Bunsen felt ashamed. This wasn’t going at all the way he had wanted it to, all he was achieving was causing Beaker more distress again. He sighed deeply to himself.

“I’m sorry, Beaker. I needed time to think about things.” He admitted sadly, placing a hand gently over Beaker’s.

“What things?” Beaker looked scared as he took his hand away from Bunsen’s. “Is this cause I asked about Valentine’s Day?”

“It is, but I-”

“Oh God, I knew it. It was stupid. I shouldn’t have said anything. I knew that’s why you were avoiding me.” Beaker shrunk more and more into his collar with every word and seemed to be hyperventilating.

“Woah, it’s okay!” Bunsen took both of Beaker’s hands in his own. “It’s not like that!”

“It isn’t?” Beaker asked quietly, peaking out of his collar.

“No, it isn’t.” Bunsen confirmed gently.

Regardless of all the planning he had done Bunsen still felt woefully unprepared for this moment. He seemed to forget all of the words he had written. He looked at Beaker’s open and vulnerable expression and knew he had to make it clear that he would never do anything to purposefully hurt him. He took a big, shaky breath.

“Beaker I-” He hesitated. “God I am so sorry, Beakie. I should have handled this situation better. I should have handled a lot of situations better with us.” 

Beaker just looked at him in confusion, Bunsen tried to find the right words. 

“When you asked about Valentine’s Day, it hadn’t occurred to me that you would want to do anything like that with me.”

Beaker looked even more confused.

“I know we’ve shared a lot of experiences with each other before, but I wasn’t aware that you felt for me the way I feel for you.”

“And how do you feel?” Beaker was shaking.

“I feel...like I want to always be by your side. Like I want to be able to tell you everything I think. Like you’re the only person who understands me, and enjoys being with me. Like you’re wonderful and amazing.”

Bunsen had never seen Beaker’s eyes quite so wide.

“But I’m... _not good_. I’m selfish and I get wrapped up in my own stuff and I find it hard to relate to other people. I constantly seem to hurt you or annoy you. I’m not even good at the one thing I’m supposed to be good at, none of my experiments work. And I don’t know how to do this. Or how to make you happy. So I don’t feel I’m good enough for you.”

Bunsen hadn’t realised he’d been crying until he felt Beaker’s hands rest against his cheeks and wipe away his tears. He muttered an apology and tried to pull away, but Beaker held him in place.

“You’re wrong.” Beaker meeped with conviction. “You’re very good. Yes, I get annoyed sometimes, but I wouldn’t spend so much time with you or stay at this job if I didn’t like you. I know you never mean to hurt me. You’re trying your best to make the world a better place.”

“And doing a miserable job.” Bunsen muttered to himself.

“No, come on. That’s not true. A lot of your inventions do work. It’s just that people only ever remember the ones that don’t. You’re literally the smartest person I know! You’re an amazing engineer! And as for that stuff about being selfish, surely you’re smart to know that’s not the case, your inability to relate to others easily is not in your control. You try, and that’s what matters most, if other people can’t see it, that’s their problem. But I know you. And you are a good muppet.”

Bunsen was shocked. And that didn’t happen often. He genuinely couldn’t wrap his head around how much praise Beaker was giving him, every positive comment was met by a small voice in the back of his head telling him otherwise. But looking into Beaker’s intense eyes he knew he would never lie to him. He was incredibly overwhelmed. It felt like his chest was about to explode.

“Making me happy isn’t complicated. Just be with me, in my life. Because _you are_ what makes me happy.”

Before Bunsen could even attempt to form a response Beaker closed the distance between them and kissed him gently.

Kissing Beaker was something that Bunsen knew he’d never grow tired of. It felt like just as much a joining of their souls as it did their mouths, though Bunsen knew that was illogical. Kissing Beaker tasted sweeter than candy and tastier than pizza. Soft in all the right ways, with just enough force and passion to remind him that Beaker was a strong muppet.

As they pulled away Beaker stared at him expectantly.

“Not that I didn’t enjoy the speech Doctor, but you didn’t really answer my question?” Beaker meeped teasingly.

_His question? Oh._

“I love you, Beaker.” Bunsen said.

It felt like the biggest of weights had been lifted from him. Like he had been locked in a room for years and finally found the key. All of those parts of himself he kept guarded from everyone else could now be free, at least here at home. Their home.

“I love you too, Bunsen.” Beaker smiled widely at him. “Of course I love you, you idiot!” He repeated with a chuckle.

“Hey now, I believe you just said I was the smartest person you know!” Bunsen teased back.

“Shut up.” Beaker muttered happily before pulling Bunsen into another kiss.

Once they pulled apart Bunsen remembered what Dr Teeth had said.

“Beaker, I just want you to know that you can tell me anything. If you’re ever feeling stressed or worried, you can tell me, I’ll listen.”

“I believe you.” Beaker said sincerely. “Although I get anxious a lot so be careful what you wish for.”

“I know.” Bunsen responded fondly. “I don’t mind.”

“Sooo…?”

“So?”

“Am I your boyfriend now or…?”

“I certainly hope so.” Bunsen assured. “Otherwise I don’t know who I’m going to give this to.”

Bunsen went to pick up a gift-wrapped box off of the coffee table and handed it to Beaker who eyed it suspiciously before carefully opening it. Inside was a new tie, similar to Beaker’s old one that had been damaged a few days prior, except this one was the same shade of green as Bunsen himself.

While in the mall purchasing the other gifts Bunsen had remembered the tie and decided he should buy Beaker a new one to make up for it, but he wanted it to be special. He wondered absentmindedly if it was at all egotistical to want his boyfriend to have something that would always remind him of Bunsen, but decided he didn’t care.

Beaker looked at the tie in wonder, a small tear escaping his left eye.

“Thank you. It’s wonderful.” He meeped earnestly.

Bunsen helped Beaker put on his new tie before they kissed once more.

Later that evening they were wrapped up together under a blanket playing their favorite video game whilst they snuggled.

“So why were you out with Walter?” Beaker asked.

“Oh, he wanted to take a date to Color Me Mine but hadn’t been to one before.”

“Color Me Mine?” Beaker asked in amusement. “Did you paint anything _pretty_ Dr Honeydew?” 

“Well I did paint something.” Bunsen responded shyly.

He considered it for a moment and decided he’d show his boyfriend, at least it’d be funny. He handed over his phone with the photo open and Beaker immediately began chuckling.

“I look forward to putting it on the mantle!” He replied in between his giggles.

Bunsen had never been happier or more sure of himself and his place in the world. His place was right there, next to the love of his life. Just being together. And he knew that from then on everyday would feel like Valentine’s Day.


End file.
